


A movie date

by GuiltyGang



Category: Original Work
Genre: Coming In Pants, F/M, Light Omorashi, Light Piss Kink, Panty Poop, Public accident, Scat, messy accident, messy pants, pooped pants, public messing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuiltyGang/pseuds/GuiltyGang
Summary: "By the way, I desperately need the toilet, just thought I'd let you know."You only admitted your kink to her two days ago. Now, you have your girlfriend desperate in your car, five minutes after you left for the cinema, and you're rock hard from the possibilities popping up in your head.---Just generic public scat porn with a small side of piss/omorashi kink, but be warned, don't like don't read!Second chapter is a he/him rather than xReader version
Relationships: OFC/OMC, OFC/Reader
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> specific kink content warnings (spoilers!):  
> character is vocal about holding piss on a car ride  
> character shits pants in a cinema with other people present  
> character rides in a car with shit pants  
> character receives oral through shit and pissed pants  
> NO smearing or touching of feces, and NO dirtying of any public property like the seats at the cinema
> 
> other content warnings:  
> characters make out and touch each other sexually in a cinema with other people present but none the wiser  
> character is sexually stimulated and distracted while driving a car, but tries to be safe as much as possible

"By the way, I desperately need the toilet, just thought I'd let you know."

You're so startled you forget to step on the gas. By the time you look at the streetlight again, it's back to red, which is just fine by you, because it gives you time to stare at your girlfriend some more.

She just raises an eyebrow, then shifts in her seat, somewhere between rubbing down on the seat and -

Well, taking pressure off her bladder, you suppose.

You only admitted your kink to her two days ago. Then, she wasn't exactly jumping at the idea, but she said she'd consider it. Now, you have her desperate in your car, five minutes after you left for the cinema. She had plenty of time to go at home - apparently she finished the consideration phase and skipped straight to experimentation without telling you, but then again, that'd be on brand for her.

It's only twenty more minutes to the cinema, so not really an unpredictable situation, perfect for her to try it out. She has a rather strong bladder after all.

“Alright,” you say, trying to copy her offhand inflection. But you're hard anyway, and she's probably enjoying it, too.

This time when the streetlight shows green, you drive.

  
***

  
When you arrive at the cinema, your girlfriend has her hand firmly jammed between her legs and is positively jiggling. You can't tell if it's real or if she's doing it for you, you've never seen her truly desperate in your two years of dating, but it makes it difficult to walk for you either way.

It is expected, but still disappointing when she leaves you alone in the ticket line to bolt for the bathroom as soon as you're inside.

Your dick flags sadly, but it's probably for the better, because you really do want to see the movie.

Or so you thought. Halfway in it's clear, this isn't nearly as good as you'd hoped. You decide to make the best of the situation and maybe pay your girlfriend some of the teasing back - she's not a big fan of action movies anyway - and sneak your hand down the back of her skirt.

You notice it’s the easy access kind, the one just held up by a flimsy elastic. She sighs, pleased, and shuffles forward in her seat a little to give you more room, and grinning, you toy with the waistband of the short leggings she wears underneath to ward off any looks.

You wonder distantly what color her panties might be, but it doesn't really matter, you'll see for yourself when you're back home anyway - and that’s a thrilling thought all in itself, because she’s been caught up in work this past week, and, well. You’re really looking forward to it.

She makes some encouraging noises, probably spurred on by the fact that you're the only people in the audience except for an elderly couple a few rows below yours, sitting in the very center - while your girlfriend actually prefers seats at the far side of a row, something about needing a quick exit in sight. She also likes anal play, but you want to tease her, so after you pushed your index finger down her panties to just over her hole, you pull it back out completely, eliciting a complaining huff, then use your entire hand to trace down her crack from outside her panties.

She moans outright, which surprises you a little since she usually likes direct touches to her hole a lot better, but you'll take it. Until she shushes you - her general way of telling you to slow down but not stop - so you rest your hand against her ass to wait for her okay to continue.

It never comes.

Instead, she tilts her hips forward a little, making your fingertips slide to the very end of her crack, nearly to where her pussy would open wet and hungry for you, and sighs again.

You register soft crackling noise and bulging pressure against your palm, and your cock is rock hard and pulsing before you even really process what just happened.

She sighs once more and relaxes a little, and you don't even know what to say. Your girlfriend just crapped her panties in public, with your hand in prime position to feel it.

The smell hits you right after, but it takes a distant second place against the violent throbbing in your cock.

"Hm, I hope you like it hard and chunky," your girlfriend muses, then looks at you, a devilish glint in her eyes.

You stare some more. Your occupied hand twitches without your permission, confirming her assessment of her mess, and your mind is utterly void of formulated thought.

Luckily, your mouth appears in working order even in that condition. "I like any kind of panty shit."

You kind of want to take it back right away, and you're probably glowing brighter than the movie screen with how hard you're blushing, but your girlfriend just grins. "Yeah? Because I have a little more mush I can pass, if you're interested."

Are you ever. Your mouth gets that across bright and clear.

"Shit, you're really about to come in your pants, aren't you?" your girlfriend asks, staring at the tent in your trousers. It twitches in confirmation.

Your girlfriend is delighted. She giggles a little, then leans in conspiratorially. "I'll cut you a deal. I shit my pants some more with you in front row position to feel it, then I'll relocate to your lap for the remainder of your movie. Then I sit in my mess while you drive us home, and there you can make me cum through my soiled panties. But only if you don't come until I have."

It takes a moment until you can speak again with how dry your mouth is, but then you agree, and about five seconds later you realize how much harder than expected this is going to be, because before you know it, she's settling herself in your lap, wiggling around in a way that makes very vivid images of the chunks mushing come to mind, and gives you a good deal of friction on your dick as well.

You let her find a position she likes, rubbing over her thighs as she goes - she's the most arousing thing you've ever seen, how could you _not_ touch her right now? You're kind of mourning the loss of your hand holding the accident, but having it rub _right_ against where you need it most... it would be a good exchange, if not for the promise you just gave.

When she finally stills for a moment, you put your hand back between her legs - over her pussy now, where there's only the smallest of wet spots in her jeans, which - she's a witch, isn't she, because if going for a piss before the movie wasn't all planned to prevent an obvious stain on the seat, then you're not a fetishist.

But god could you care less right now, with her still - and now it _has_ to be deliberate - shuffling around in your lap, and not that there was much of a plot to the movie but you've utterly lost it now, because your blood is rushing in your ears and her scent is in your nose, deliciously mixed with what she did in her pants, and you can't help but pull her closer yet, pray that the other couple at least is preoccupied with the movie, and desperately kiss her.

She laughs into your mouth, absolutely delighted at your helpless arousal, but you just kiss her harder and start rubbing her under her skirt, just a slow up and down of your hands over the leggings, and soon you're rewarded with her tiny moans.

You're fairly sure there are explosions going off on the screen, but all you want right now is to get her out of her stained pants, pull those panties to the side and just... slide right in, have her grinding into your lap, hands on her ass to pull her closer yet - you break the kiss, panting, helplessly shoving up into the next downward grind of her hips, then grab her by the waist to keep her still.

"Stop," you pant into her ear, "please, baby, I'm gonna come."

She giggles, gives another small roll of her hips, but then she eases off, laying her head back to let you kiss her neck.

"Good boy," she purrs when you take up where you left off between her legs, and pushes up into your hand instead. "Hmmm, I think I might _really_ like this."

Warmth, in your stomach and shooting down to your groin, half relief and half desperate arousal, head full of next time and the one after and all the other things you'd like to try - and you pull her head back to kiss her again, because you really, really love her right about now.

Thankfully, your girlfriend knows _some_ mercy, and stays mostly still for the following minutes. It keeps you from breaking your promise, if just barely - your balls are _aching_ with how turned on you are, the scent filling your nose on every inhale, and you couldn't stop being close to her, kissing her neck like your life depends on it, even if you wanted to.

She's warm and wet between her legs, and you want to bring up your fingers to smell it, maybe lick them, the mixture of piss and her arousal, but you refrain, concentrating on _keeping_ her wet, on the feeling of her legs straining the tiniest bit, and you have to close your eyes and force yourself still every time she grunts and pushes a tiny bit more into her pants, the spot under your fingers re-wetting occasionally, and she's shimmying and twisting, seeking your lips, clearly very content in her skin.

Put plainly, she's amazing.

You are close to pain when the movie finally ends, some cheesy lines and a sappy kiss and the screen goes dark for a moment. Well, you're _not_ going to stay for the credits.

Your girlfriend clearly agrees; she's up and off your lap before you can even grab your jacket, leading the way through the rows and toward the exit - your heart skips a beat when you realize that other couple’s also still here, but they’re not making a move to get up yet, so it’s all good.

Your girlfriend stops at the door though, turning around, and reaches out. "Give me your jacket."

She's not really shy, but she sounds a lot quieter than she did a minute before, so you hand it over without a second thought. Only when she knots it around her waist does it dawn on you, and you quickly glance down your own body - your pants are dark gray, but not quite dark enough to hide the small stain on the front - the stain of her piss, and your heart picks up again, beating a hectic tattoo against your ribs.

"You should be fine," your girlfriend reassures after a quick once-over, then winks at you. "Just follow me." And before you know it, she's grabbed your hand and maneuvered you both out into the lobby, past the ticket stand and out the front doors.

Bright daylight is a bit much this fast after the dark theater, but your girlfriend doesn't seem to have any issues finding her way to the car, and then she has no qualms about pushing your right up against it and kissing you breathless, rubbing up to your crotch in a deliberate, well-practiced and devilishly effective move. You're just grabbing for her ass to pull her closer, desperate to get another good grip on what she did for you - walking around in public is a bit of a buffer, but just this is enough to reignite your libido, your imagination, your _want_. But just when you're getting into it, she's pulling away again, lying a finger under your chin to keep you focused on her.

"So, what's it gonna be? Go home, like planned, or do you want to stay here? Get a thrill from me walking around in public, risking everyone to see what I just did?"

You briefly have to close your eyes against the images, walking through the park with her waddling by your side, trying but too inexperienced to hide it, maybe sitting down somewhere in the grass-

But no, this is too new, too precious. You want it to yourself, keep it close, where you can examine it in all its glory. "Home," you tell her, and she nods, kisses you again.

"Then get in the car."

Your mind is _not_ on task, so you fumble like you’ve never seen a car at first, but you get your door open, sit down, key in the ignition.

Then your girlfriend is stepping into the car and sitting down gingerly - slow, deliberate, face pinched in concentration as she clearly feels out the sensation - the sensation of her poop pushing against her ass, getting squished, maybe even pushing around to the front...

You can see the moment she's fully settled in the way her shoulders relax, and she leans back even further, moaning.

You don't know if it's for show, and you do not care, you barely remember to close your car door for decency - there are probably kids around here somewhere - but then your hand is on your cock, squeezing, desperate to get some relief from the arousal that's _burning_ through you, but you keep yourself from stroking it, because that would undoubtedly end it right here.

The other door clicks shut more gently, and your girlfriend laughs at you. "Aww, are you sure you're fit to drive?" But then she's leaning over, grabbing your hair to kiss you, and you're on her the second after, one hand at her cheek and the other grabbing her ass again, regardless of the awkward angle. She moans and so do you, biting at her lips until she gently pushes you away.

"Huh, I may have miscalculated a few things," she says breezily, but gets herself situated properly again, "but this is a ton of fun."

That's good to hear, but you're beyond telling her as much, so you just... take a breath and focus on starting up the car, then maneuvering out of the parking lot without killing anyone, and you actually do make it out on the street before you can't help but glance over again.

Your girlfriend is comfortably leaned back in her seat - her smell is filling the car already, and every breath makes your cock pulse. Her legs are spread wide, one leaning against the console between you, the other knee propped against the airbag in front of her - it's probably not strictly safe for driving, but you've never cared less about traffic regulations in your life. She’s idly stroking up and down her thighs, closer and closer to where they meet - you wrench your eyes away and focus on the street. There are signs to read and streetlights to stop at and other cars not to crash into, because not making it home right now would just be unacceptable.

You girlfriend snickers, but you ignore her like she deserves for that - ugh, what she deserves is reverence, stripping her down with your hand at her ass, licking her nipples, kissing down, eating her out while you massage the mess she made just for you - street. Cars, stopping, red streetlight, slowing down. Focus on the traffic. 

You make it maybe five minutes, catching your thoughts when they start to drift, and you need another grab at your dick at one point but you manage to focus and be a good road user - and then your girlfriend groans. Long and relieved like when you push deep and grind against just the right spot, or when you stretch her open on your fingers and give her a broad lick at the same time. No force in this world could keep your eyes on the street, and you allow yourself a quick glance.

She's reclined even farther, head thrown back and eyes closed. One hand is pinching at her nipple, hard and stiff through the flimsy fabric of her top. The other, though - that's the one that nearly does you in, and you grip the steering wheel harder and wrench your eyes away because you’re still in moving traffic.

But... but she's touching herself through her leggings, soaked still, and you don't know the exact ratio of piss to arousal making up that stain but you want to, the one she's rhythmically rubbing her finger over, pulling the fabric taut on the upstroke, and - the pants, they're elastic enough to give, to raise the bulge at her ass, making it jump and shift with her movements, and she must be feeling it, it's so clear in your mind because you've done it enough, the feeling of getting yourself off with your mess moving in time, the weight in your pants that's testament to how dirty you are, how much you filled your panties...

You shift in your seat, making your own pants rub against your erection, and it's bliss and torture alike, and before you know it you're moaning along with her.

Because she's going to be the end of you, she hears and reaches over, rubs over your crotch mercilessly, perfectly, and you can't help but hump against the pressure, only just enough concentration to stay inside the street markings.

She lets her left knee drop further and turns toward you a bit more, and one glance is enough to get the full picture of the situation in her pants, and when she moans loud and deep just for you, you love her so much.

You've been together long enough that she knows exactly what you like, and you can only take it so long before you're actually going to cause a crash - because you're a good driver alright, but even you can't concentrate when you're coming.

Besides, there's a promise to keep, so you gently push her hand away.

Thankfully, she goes without protest, and you can already see the coffee shop that marks your last turn down the road.

She's quieter for the rest of the drive, but you can hear anyway, the constant rub rub rub of her hand on herself, and you've probably never done worse parking job than this, but you're not going to try and correct it, fuck what the neighbors are going to think.

You fumble the keys trying to unlock the front door, but you get it on the second try and your girlfriend is right behind you, and she's probably laughing at you but you don't care, you just urge her to go first so you can stare at her ass as she makes her way up the stairs, and just the view could fuel your masturbation sessions for the rest of your life. Her pants are clearly wet but not wet enough to be running down her legs - yet, a small voice in your head says, and you lick your lips and concentrate on taking the next landing without falling on your face - and there's an obvious bulge in the seat, about the size of an orange, not overt but perfectly obvious when you know what you're looking at, and oh do you ever. The weight and size of it is unfamiliar to your girlfriend, and it shows in the way she takes the stairs one at a time like she's usually too impatient to, and your head is full of the image, the _knowledge_ of how every step pulls the fabric taut, makes her mess mush against her.

Finally reaching your floor, your girlfriend steps to the side to let you open the door again, and this time you master the keys on the first try and then you're in, and your girlfriend is right behind you and you push her up against the door the second it falls closed.

She makes a vague remark about shoes or something, but then you're kissing her an she's moaning into your mouth, and normally she would hook a leg around you to get closer now but she doesn't today. She spreads her legs to allow your hand between instead, and you put your other one on her boob as you kiss your way down her neck, pinch her nipple and grab her ass, right next to her mess so it's hanging against your forearm, and you take a moment to lick her other nipple, her hand in your hair and then you're on your knees.

You look up at her, a question, and she laughs and moans and tells you, breathless, "Fuck yes," and then she's helping you pull her leggings down to her ankles.

Her panties aren't ones she usually picks out for sex, they're cotton and cover decidedly more skin than her sexy lingerie does, but it's pale gray, securely holds her entire load and stains _beautifully_ , and you pin the waistband to her belly to pull it taut against her front, making her clit a tiny but obvious protrusion, an easy target, and you go in for the kill.

Your girlfriend loves it. You pride yourself in having studied her preferences in getting oral extensively, and you put it all to use now because she deserves nothing less, and your other hand is still at her ass, and you dare to squeeze her mess directly now, feel out the shape of it and she just moans harder, takes hold of your head and grinds into your face.

Her mess didn't quite make it to the front when she sat down in the car, but you have your hands on it and you can smell it all around you, mixing with her arousal, and she's wet like a fountain and your cock is pulsing painfully where it's still trapped in denim.

Your girlfriend very clearly isn't grossed out yet, so you take advantage and grab her mess in broad strokes, hold it and squeeze it and rub it in a bit, and you suck her clit as time becomes a theoretical concept again until she shouts your name and then she's coming, contractions evident against your hand on her stomach, with the way she jerks her hips, her pussy quivering against your mouth. You lick her through it, then regretfully let up on her ass to allow her to get her bearings, and then you're just sitting there staring up at her, out of your mind with how bad you need to come, _right now._

It takes another breath or two, but then she's smirking down at you, and your heart kicks right back up.

"Come up here." You're there in a second, and she pulls you into a kiss, takes your hand to put it back over her ass. "Like that, don't you."

You nod breathlessly, and she pushes you just far enough away to get to your pants, pulling the zipper and peeling the fabric open. It's sticking a bit to your boxers, soaked in precome.

"Oh," she says, lightly teasing as she rubs her hand down your crotch, "you _really_ like that. What a mess."

And that's it. It's a trigger word, making your brain spark and overload - and the connection is right there after all, in your hand, still warm and mushing perfectly - and you give in. Before you know it, you're coming, your girlfriend making a surprised noise and rubbing harder, and you jerk and jerk again, come dripping to the floor in fat globs.

You have to lean against the wall next to her when it finally ends, because your body feels like pudding, and you rest your forehead against her shoulder.

Your girlfriend laughs again, hand still on you cock. "Oh, I like that."

"Really?" you ask her, peering up from tired eyes, and she nods with a smile.

"Making a guy so desperate he can't hold it until he's out of his pants? Hell yes."

You smile too, relieved in more than one way, and relax back into the wall, just holding her now, the smell still all around you.

Your girlfriend keeps staring down your body. "Maybe our kinks are a bit alike in that way," she says after a while.

"Maybe," you agree after eying both your pants critically.

"We should do that again," she says, and your heart kicks straight back into overdrive for a second. She grins knowingly. "I think I’d like to see how you wear messy pants. But let's get cleaned up for now."


	2. Chapter 2

"By the way, I desperately need the toilet, just thought I'd let you know."

He’s so startled he forgets to step on the gas. By the time he looks at the streetlight again, it's back to red, which is just fine by him, because it gives him time to stare at his girlfriend some more.

She just raises an eyebrow, then shifts in her seat, somewhere between rubbing down on the seat and -

Well, taking pressure off her bladder, he supposes.

He only admitted his kink to her two days ago. Then, she wasn't exactly jumping at the idea, but she said she'd consider it. Now, he has her desperate in his car, five minutes after they left for the cinema. She had plenty of time to go at home - apparently she finished the consideration phase and skipped straight to experimentation without telling him, but then again, that'd be on brand for her.

It's only twenty more minutes to the cinema, so not really an unpredictable situation, perfect for her to try it out. She has a rather strong bladder after all.

“Alright,” he says, trying to copy her offhand inflection. But he’s hard anyway, and she's probably enjoying it, too.

This time when the streetlight shows green, he drives.

  
***

  
When they arrive at the cinema, his girlfriend has her hand firmly jammed between her legs and is positively jiggling. He can't tell if it's real or if she's doing it for you, he’s never seen her truly desperate in their two years of dating, but it makes it difficult to walk for him either way.

It is expected, but still disappointing when she leaves him alone in the ticket line to bolt for the bathroom as soon as they're inside.

His dick flags sadly, but it's probably for the better, because he really do wants to see the movie.

Or so he’d thought. Halfway in it's clear, this isn't nearly as good as he'd hoped. He decides to make the best of the situation and maybe pay his girlfriend some of the teasing back - she's not a big fan of action movies anyway - and sneaks his hand down the back of her skirt.

He notes it’s the easy access kind, the one just held up by a flimsy elastic. She sighs, pleased, and shuffles forward in her seat a little to give him more room, and grinning, he toys with the waistband of the short leggings she wears underneath to ward off any looks.

He wonders distantly what color her panties might be, but it doesn't really matter, he'll see for himself when they're back home anyway - and that’s a thrilling thought all in itself, because she’s been caught up in work this past week, and, well. He’s really looking forward to it.

She makes some encouraging noises, probably spurred on by the fact that they're the only people in the audience except for an elderly couple a few rows below theirs, sitting in the very center - while his girlfriend actually prefers seats at the far side of a row, something about needing a quick exit in sight. She also likes anal play, but he wants to tease her, so after he pushed his index finger down her panties to just over her hole, he pulls it back out completely, eliciting a complaining huff, then uses his entire hand to trace down her crack from outside her panties.

She moans outright, which surprises him a little since she usually likes direct touches to her hole a lot better, but he'll take it. Until she shushes him - her general way of telling him to slow down but not stop - so he rests his hand against her ass to wait for her okay to continue.

It never comes.

Instead, she tilts her hips forward a little, making his fingertips slide to the very end of her crack, nearly to where her pussy would open wet and hungry, and sighs again.

He registers soft crackling noise and bulging pressure against his palm, and his cock is rock hard and pulsing before he even really processes what just happened.

She sighs once more and relaxes a little, and he doesn't even know what to say. His girlfriend just crapped her panties in public, with his hand in prime position to feel it.

The smell hits right after, but it takes a distant second place against the violent throbbing in his cock.

"Hm, I hope you like it hard and chunky," his girlfriend muses, then looks at him, a devilish glint in her eyes.

He stares some more. His occupied hand twitches without his permission, confirming her assessment of her mess, and his mind is utterly void of formulated thought.

Luckily, his mouth appears in working order even in that condition. "I like any kind of panty shit."

He kind of wants to take it back right away, and he;s probably glowing brighter than the movie screen with how hard he’s blushing, but his girlfriend just grins. "Yeah? Because I have a little more mush I can pass, if you're interested."

Is he ever. His mouth gets that across bright and clear.

"Shit, you're really about to come in your pants, aren't you?" his girlfriend asks, staring at the tent in his trousers. It twitches in confirmation.

His girlfriend is delighted. She giggles a little, then leans in conspiratorially. "I'll cut you a deal. I shit my pants some more with you in front row position to feel it, then I'll relocate to your lap for the remainder of your movie. Then I sit in my mess while you drive us home, and there you can make me cum through my soiled panties. But only if you don't come until I have."

It takes a moment until he can speak again with how dry his mouth is, but then he agrees, and about five seconds later he realizes how much harder than expected this is going to be, because before he knows it, she's settling herself in his lap, wiggling around in a way that makes very vivid images of the chunks mushing come to mind, and gives him a good deal of friction on his dick as well.

He lets her find a position she likes, rubbing over her thighs as she goes - she's the most arousing thing he’s ever seen, how could he _not_ touch her right now? He’s kind of mourning the loss of his hand holding the accident, but having it rub _right_ against where he needs it most... it would be a good exchange, if not for the promise he just gave.

When she finally stills for a moment, he puts his hand back between her legs - over her pussy now, where there's only the smallest of wet spots in her jeans, which - she's a witch, isn't she, because if going for a piss before the movie wasn't all planned to prevent an obvious stain on the seat, then he’s not a fetishist.

But god could he care less right now, with her still - and now it _has_ to be deliberate - shuffling around in his lap, and not that there was much of a plot to the movie but he’s utterly lost it now, because his blood is rushing in his ears and her scent is in his nose, deliciously mixed with what she did in her pants, and he can't help but pull her closer yet, pray that the other couple at least is preoccupied with the movie, and desperately kiss her.

She laughs into his mouth, absolutely delighted at his helpless arousal, but he just kisses her harder and start rubbing her under her skirt, just a slow up and down of his hands over the leggings, and soon he’s rewarded with her tiny moans.

He’s fairly sure there are explosions going off on the screen, but all he wants right now is to get her out of her stained pants, pull those panties to the side and just... slide right in, have her grinding into his lap, hands on her ass to pull her closer yet - he breaks the kiss, panting, helplessly shoving up into the next downward grind of her hips, then grab her by the waist to keep her still.

"Stop," he pants into her ear, "please, baby, I'm gonna come."

She giggles, gives another small roll of her hips, but then she eases off, laying her head back to let him kiss her neck.

"Good boy," she purrs when he takes up where you left off between her legs, and pushes up into his hand instead. "Hmmm, I think I might _really_ like this."

Warmth, in his stomach and shooting down to his groin, half relief and half desperate arousal, head full of next time and the one after and all the other things he'd like to try - and he pulls her head back to kiss her again, because he really, really loves her right about now.

Thankfully, his girlfriend knows some mercy, and stays mostly still for the following minutes. It keeps him from breaking your promise, if just barely - his balls are _aching_ with how turned on he is, the scent filling his nose on every inhale, and he couldn't stop being close to her, kissing her neck like his life depends on it, even if he wanted to.

She's warm and wet between her legs, and he wants to bring up his fingers to smell it, maybe lick them, the mixture of piss and her arousal, but he refrains, concentrating on _keeping_ her wet, on the feeling of her legs straining the tiniest bit, and he has to close your eyes and force himself still every time she grunts and pushes a tiny bit more into her pants, the spot under his fingers re-wetting occasionally, and she's shimmying and twisting, seeking his lips, clearly very content in her skin.

Put plainly, she's amazing.

He’s close to pain when the movie finally ends, some cheesy lines and a sappy kiss and the screen goes dark for a moment. Well, they're _not_ going to stay for the credits.

His girlfriend clearly agrees; she's up and off his lap before he can even grab his jacket, leading the way through the rows and toward the exit - his heart skips a beat when he realizes that other couple’s also still here, but they’re not making a move to get up yet, so it’s all good.

His girlfriend stops at the door though, turning around, and reaches out. "Give me your jacket."

She's not really shy, but she sounds a lot quieter than she did a minute before, so he hands it over without a second thought. Only when she knots it around her waist does it dawn on him, and he quickly glances down his own body - his pants are dark gray, but not quite dark enough to hide the small stain on the front - the stain of her piss, and his heart picks up again, beating a hectic tattoo against his ribs.

"You should be fine," hi girlfriend reassures after a quick once-over, then winks at him. "Just follow me." And before he knows it, she's grabbed his hand and maneuvered them both out into the lobby, past the ticket stand and out the front doors.

Bright daylight is a bit much this fast after the dark theater, but his girlfriend doesn't seem to have any issues finding her way to the car, and then she has no qualms about pushing him right up against it and kissing him breathless, rubbing up to his crotch in a deliberate, well-practiced and devilishly effective move. He’s just grabbing for her ass to pull her closer, desperate to get another good grip on what she did for him - walking around in public is a bit of a buffer, but just this is enough to reignite his libido, his imagination, his _want_. But just when he’s getting into it, she's pulling away again, lying a finger under his chin to keep him focused on her.

"So, what's it gonna be? Go home, like planned, or do you want to stay here? Get a thrill from me walking around in public, risking everyone to see what I just did?"

He briefly has to close his eyes against the images, walking through the park with her waddling by his side, trying but too inexperienced to hide it, maybe sitting down somewhere in the grass-

But no, this is too new, too precious. He wants it to himself, keep it close, where he can examine it in all its glory. "Home," he tells her, and she nods, kisses him again.

"Then get in the car."

His mind is _not_ on task, so he fumbles like he’s never seen a car at first, but he eventually manages to get your door open, sit down, key in the ignition.

Then his girlfriend is stepping into the car and sitting down gingerly - slow, deliberate, face pinched in concentration as she clearly feels out the sensation - the sensation of her poop pushing against her ass, getting squished, maybe even pushing around to the front...

He can see the moment she's fully settled in the way her shoulders relax, and she leans back even further, moaning.

He doesn’t know if it's for show, and he does not care, he barely remembers to close his car door for decency - there are probably kids around here somewhere - but then his hand is on his cock, squeezing, desperate to get some relief from the arousal that's _burning_ through him, but he keeps himself from stroking it, because that would undoubtedly end it right here.

The other door clicks shut more gently, and his girlfriend laughs at him. "Aww, are you sure you're fit to drive?" But then she's leaning over, grabbing his hair to kiss him, and he’s on her the second after, one hand at her cheek and the other grabbing her ass again, regardless of the awkward angle. She moans and so does he, biting at her lips until she gently pushes him away.

"Huh, I may have miscalculated a few things," she says breezily, but gets herself situated properly again, "but this is a ton of fun."

That's good to hear, but he’s beyond telling her as much, so he just... takes a breath and focuses on starting up the car, then maneuvering out of the parking lot without killing anyone, and he actually does make it out on the street before he can't help but glance over again.

His girlfriend is comfortably leaned back in her seat - her smell is filling the car already, and every breath makes his cock pulse. Her legs are spread wide, one leaning against the console between them, the other knee propped against the airbag in front of her - it's probably not strictly safe for driving, but he’s never cared less about traffic regulations in his life. She’s idly stroking up and down her thighs, closer and closer to where they meet - he wrenches his eyes away and focuses on the street. There are signs to read and streetlights to stop at and other cars not to crash into, because not making it home right now would just be unacceptable.

His girlfriend snickers, but he ignores her like she deserves for that - ugh, what she deserves is reverence, stripping her down with his hand at her ass, licking her nipples, kissing down, eating her out while he massages the mess she made just for him - street. Cars, stopping, red streetlight, slowing down. Focus on the traffic. 

He makes it maybe five minutes, catching his thoughts when they start to drift, and he needs another grab at his dick at one point but he manages to focus and be a good road user - and then his girlfriend groans. Long and relieved like when he pushes deep and grinds against just the right spot, or when he stretches her open on his fingers and gives her a broad lick at the same time. No force in this world could keep his eyes on the street, and he allows himself a quick glance.

She's reclined even farther, head thrown back and eyes closed. One hand is pinching at her nipple, hard and stiff through the flimsy fabric of her top. The other, though - that's the one that nearly does him in, and he grips the steering wheel harder and wrenches his eyes away because they’re still in moving traffic.

But... but she's touching herself through her leggings, soaked still, and he doesn’t know the exact ratio of piss to arousal making up that stain but he wants to, the one she's rhythmically rubbing her finger over, pulling the fabric taut on the upstroke, and - the pants, they're elastic enough to give, to raise the bulge at her ass, making it jump and shift with her movements, and she must be feeling it, it's so clear in his mind because he’s done it enough, the feeling of getting himself off with his mess moving in time, the weight in his pants that's testament to how dirty he is, how much he filled his panties...

He shifts in his seat, making his own pants rub against his erection, and it's bliss and torture alike, and before he knows it he’s moaning along with her.

Because she's going to be the end of him, she hears and reaches over, rubs over his crotch mercilessly, perfectly, and he can't help but hump against the pressure, only just enough concentration to stay inside the street markings.

She lets her left knee drop further and turns toward him a bit more, and one glance is enough to get the full picture of the situation in her pants, and when she moans loud and deep just for him, he loves her so much.

They've been together long enough that she knows exactly what he likes, and he can only take it so long before he’s actually going to cause a crash - because he’s a good driver alright, but even he can't concentrate when he’s coming.

Besides, there's a promise to keep, so he gently pushes her hand away.

Thankfully, she goes without protest, and he can already see the coffee shop that marks the last turn down the road.

She's quieter for the rest of the drive, but he can hear anyway, the constant rub rub rub of her hand on herself, and he’s probably never done worse parking job than this, but he’s not going to try and correct it, fuck what the neighbors are going to think.

He fumbles the keys trying to unlock the front door, but he gets it on the second try and his girlfriend is right behind him, and she's probably laughing at him but he doesn’t care, he just urges her to go first so he can stare at her ass as she makes her way up the stairs, and just the view could fuel his masturbation sessions for the rest of his life. Her pants are clearly wet but not wet enough to be running down her legs - _yet_ , a small voice in his head says, and he licks his lips and concentrates on taking the next landing without falling on his face - and there's an obvious bulge in the seat, about the size of an orange, not overt but perfectly obvious when one knows what one's looking at, and oh does he ever. The weight and size of it is unfamiliar to his girlfriend, and it shows in the way she takes the stairs one at a time like she's usually too impatient to, and his head is full of the image, the _knowledge_ of how every step pulls the fabric taut, makes her mess mush against her.

Finally reaching his floor, his girlfriend steps to the side to let him open the door again, and this time he masters the keys on the first try and then he’s in, and his girlfriend is right behind him and he pushes her up against the door the second it falls closed.

She makes a vague remark about shoes or something, but then he’s kissing her an she's moaning into his mouth, and normally she would hook a leg around him to get closer now but she doesn't today. She spreads her legs to allow his hand between instead, and he puts his other one on her boob as you kisses his way down her neck, pinches her nipple and grabs her ass, right next to her mess so it's hanging against his forearm, and he takes a moment to lick her other nipple, her hand in his hair and then he’s on his knees.

He looks up at her, a question, and she laughs and moans and tells him, breathless, "Fuck yes," and then she's helping him pull her leggings down to her ankles.

Her panties aren't ones she usually picks out for sex, they're cotton and cover decidedly more skin than her sexy lingerie does, but it's pale gray, securely holds her entire load and stains _beautifully_ , and he pins the waistband to her belly to pull it taut against her front, making her clit a tiny but obvious protrusion, an easy target, and he goes in for the kill.

His girlfriend loves it. He prides himself in having studied her preferences in getting oral extensively, and he puts it all to use now because she deserves nothing less, and his other hand is still at her ass, and he dares to squeeze her mess directly now, feel out the shape of it and she just moans harder, takes hold of his head and grinds into his face.

Her mess didn't quite make it to the front when she sat down in the car, but he has his hands on it and he can smell it all around them, mixing with her arousal, and she's wet like a fountain and his cock is pulsing painfully where it's still trapped in denim.

His girlfriend very clearly isn't grossed out yet, so he takes advantage and grabs her mess in broad strokes, holds it and squeezes it and rubs it in a bit, and he sucks her clit as time becomes a theoretical concept again until she shouts his name and then she's coming, contractions evident against his hand on her stomach, with the way she jerks her hips, her pussy quivering against his mouth. He licks her through it, then regretfully lets up on her ass to allow her to get her bearings, and then he’s just sitting there staring up at her, out of his mind with how bad he needs to come, _right now_.

It takes another breath or two, but then she's smirking down at him, and his heart kicks right back up.

"Come up here." He’s there in a second, and she pulls him into a kiss, takes his hand to put it back over her ass. "Like that, don't you."

He nods breathlessly, and she pushes him just far enough away to get to his pants, pulling the zipper and peeling the fabric open. It's sticking a bit to his boxers, soaked in precome.

"Oh," she says, lightly teasing as she rubs her hand down his crotch, "you _really_ like that. What a mess."

And that's it. It's a trigger word, making his brain spark and overload - and the connection is right there after all, in his hand, still warm and mushing perfectly - and he gives in. Before he knows it, he’s coming, his girlfriend making a surprised noise and rubbing harder, and he jerks and jerks again, come dripping to the floor in fat globs.

He has to lean against the wall next to her when it finally ends, because his body feels like pudding, and he rests his forehead against her shoulder.

His girlfriend laughs again, hand still on his cock. "Oh, I like that."

"Really?" he asks her, peering up from tired eyes, and she nods with a smile.

"Making a guy so desperate he can't hold it until he's out of his pants? Hell yes."

He smiles too, relieved in more than one way, and relaxes back into the wall, just holding her now, the smell still all around them.

His girlfriend keeps staring down his body. "Maybe our kinks are a bit alike in that way," she says after a while.

"Maybe," he agrees after eying both their pants critically.

"We should do that again," she says, and his heart kicks straight back into overdrive for a second. She grins knowingly. "I think I’d like to see how you wear messy pants. But let's get cleaned up for now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would love a comment  
> also english isn't my first language so pointing out any mistakes would be very appreciated

**Author's Note:**

> Would love a comment if you enjoyed, certainly won't judge  
> also english isn't my first language so if you'd point out any errors to me that would be really appreciated


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